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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962615">The Little Things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/houdini74/pseuds/houdini74'>houdini74</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A grab bag of ficlets, Coda, Fluff and Humor, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:49:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/houdini74/pseuds/houdini74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short, unrelated ficlets</p><p>1. Patrick learns David is better at math<br/>2. Patrick checks on David after Mariah Carey interrupts the Class of 2020 performance<br/>3. Patrick sits in David's lap for the first time<br/>4. Five thoughts Patrick had about David before they started dating<br/>5. David brings Patrick tea for the first time<br/>6. Patrick over-reacts to something small<br/>7. Patrick wears David's sweater<br/><strong>NEW</strong> 8. Alexis has some thoughts about David and Patrick the morning after Moira Rosé</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Rosebudd Ficlets</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick learns David is better at math</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Forty-two.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s forty-two. You wrote down thirty-two.”</p><p>“David, that’s not right—”</p><p>“See, you forgot to carry the one. Forty-two.” </p><p>“Huh.”</p><p>“That one’s not right either.”</p><p>“Of course it is.”</p><p>“No, it’s not.”</p><p>“Yes. It is.”</p><p>“No, Patrick, it’s not.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Fine, what?”</p><p>“Fine, you were right, David. The answer is actually 627.”</p><p>“Don’t pout.”</p><p>“I’m not pouting.”</p><p>“You are definitely pouting. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, some of us are just better at math than others.”</p><p>“Oh, I see. In that case, maybe you should fill out this year’s Sales Tax Return.”</p><p>“Hmm. Okay. But do you really want me to get <em>creative<em> with our tax return?”</em></em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick checks on David after Mariah Carey interrupts the Class of 2020 performance</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh my god. David, are you okay?” Patrick screeches to a halt just inside the living room door. His husband is lying spread eagled on the floor, his eyes closed. On the laptop screen he can see their friends and family, along with Mariah Carey, of all people, craning their heads trying to see if David is okay. the Roses’ voices are tinny from the computer speaker.</p><p>“Ew, David. Get off the floor.”</p><p>“Come now son, people are counting on you.”</p><p>“David dear, this is no time for histrionics.”</p><p>Patrick kneels beside his prone husband, shaking one shoulder gently. “David?”</p><p>“I think I hit my head.” David’s eyes crack open. His gaze is remarkably clear for a head injury, but a stab of fear goes through Patrick anyway.</p><p>“Okay, don’t move, let me see.” He combs his fingers gently through David’s soft hair but there’s no sign of an injury. He sits back on his heels. “What makes you think you hit your head?”</p><p>“Obviously I must have, because I dreamt Mariah Carey was singing to me.”</p><p>“David, That wasn’t a dream.” He helps his husband into a sitting position. “Look, she’s still there, waiting to see if you’re okay.”</p><p>David’s eyes fasten onto the laptop screen.</p><p>“Hi David.” Mariah waves at them.</p><p>“Oh my god.” David collapses backwards onto the floor. “I can’t believe you let her see me like this!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick sits in David's lap for the first time</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“David?”</p><p>His boyfriend had disappeared into the back room with a tray of empty plastic wine glasses and a couple of partially finished bottles of the store’s second best red fifteen minutes ago and he hasn’t returned. Puzzled, Patrick locks the front door and pulls open to the curtain to the store room. David looks up at him from his spot on the tattered sofa in the far corner of the room, the orange flames on his sweater are bright even in the dim light.</p><p>“Everything okay?” </p><p>David nods and his hand flinches towards him before pulling back to trace the seam of the cushion. “I just needed a minute.”</p><p>Patrick moves to stand in front of him and this time when David’s hand reaches out it makes contact, wrapping around his wrist and tugging him down before he can react. He breaks his fall semi-awkwardly, with one hand on the back of the couch. It doesn’t prevent him from ending up in David’s lap, right where David intended. </p><p>David’s hands find his shoulders, engulfing him, making him aware of every inch of David’s larger frame. For maybe the first time in his life, he luxuriates in feeling small. David tucks his face into the crook of his shoulder.</p><p>Words bubble to the surface. Too soon. Too much. Too big. He lets them go, searching for a joke to force David to meet him halfway. “I think I made a mistake.”</p><p>David pulls away, his eyes crinkle with suspicion. “What’s that?”</p><p>“I should have worn the fringed vest.” David tucks his smile into his cheek and Patrick shrugs. “There’s always next time.”</p><p>David’s hand is firm on the back of his neck and he mumbles into the kiss. “Don’t you dare.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Five thoughts Patrick had about David before they started dating</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David’s hands are really soft. Does he moisturize? He probably moisturizes. He looks like the kind of guy who has a four step skincare routine. Beringed hands flash towards Patrick and he gets the faintest whiff of cedar. Should he make a joke about skincare? No, that’s personal, it’s too soon for personal. What would it take to make David Rose laugh? He tries a joke about baseball and gets an annoyed smile in return. They linger, the smile and the smell of cedar, long after David Rose has left his office. </p><p>David doesn’t smell like cedar anymore. The subtle moisturizer has been overtaken by the scent of weed, clinging to David’s clothes as he brushes by him to retrieve his carefully completed form. Who smokes weed at 2:00 on a Wednesday? Well, that’s his business. Maybe he’ll just drop in to David’s store next week. Just to see how he’s doing. </p><p>David is wearing black and white. Again. Or is it white and black this time since white is the dominant colour? It reminds Patrick of those butterflies he’d learned about in summer camp who have images of eyes on their wings to distract predators. What would it take for David to feel safe enough to give up his camouflage? Patrick shakes his head. He needs to focus. He’s been David’s business partner for less than thirty minutes and all he can think about are clothes.</p><p>That shower cap is going to ruin David’s perfect hair. If they were alone he could offer to check David’s head for lice, to run his hands through the soft curls. But they’re not alone, Stevie is here. Stevie, who he’s only just met but who gives him a look so knowing that he’s certain she can see every line of his crush on David written across his skin. Stevie, who knows how to push all of David’s buttons. Together the two of them goad David into removing the shower cap. Patrick’s hands twitch as David’s curls spring free and he clenches them into fists to stop himself from brushing a stray curl from David’s forehead.</p><p>Teasing David about his juice was a terrible mistake. His eyes are drawn to David’s sloppy mouth over and over as they arrange the last items and double check the till. Would David’s mouth be hot and sloppy against his lips, around his cock? When David leaves to pick up their lunch, he slips to the washroom, taking himself in hand to relieve what was about to become an embarrassing way to reveal his feelings to his business partner. Fuck it. David is seemingly oblivious to blatant flirting. As soon as the store opening is over, he’s going to find a way to tell David how he feels. He slips the store copy of the receipt from their first sale into his wallet when David’s not looking. He’s always loved a grand gesture.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>David brings Patrick tea for the first time</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here.”</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“Here. It’s— Just take it.”</p><p>“Okay?”</p><p>“Oh my god, you don’t need to take the lid off and inspect it. It’s tea, okay?”</p><p>“I didn’t ask for tea.”</p><p>“I know. I just— You know what, forget it.”</p><p>“That’s really nice, thank you David. How much do I owe you?”</p><p>“You don’t owe me anything. Just drink your tea.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Patrick. Drink the tea.”</p><p>“... David, did you put honey in my tea?”</p><p>“Um...yes? Is that okay? You always get honey in your tea. You know what, this whole thing was a mistake, let’s just finish stocking the body milk.”</p><p>“Can you drink this?”</p><p>“The tea?”</p><p>“No, the body milk.”</p><p>“Of course you can’t drink it! It’s body milk, not tea milk.”</p><p>“So you didn’t put body milk in my tea?”</p><p>“Of course I didn’t— You know what? Next time, you can be the one who goes to the cafe. But I’m warning you, my coffee order is more complicated than your tea.”</p><p>“Oh. Okay.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Do you take milk in your coffee?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick over-reacts to something small</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Patrick? Patrick?”</p><p>“In here.”</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“Why is the bedroom door closed?”</p><p>“You can come in. Just— close the door.”</p><p>“What’s going on?”</p><p>“Uh…”</p><p>“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”</p><p>“There’s a wasp. In the kitchen. And it brought its friends.”</p><p>“Oh. <em>Oh.</em>”</p><p>“Yeah. It’s too bad, I really loved this house.”</p><p>“I know, honey. But you’re right. We’re going to have to move.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick wears David's sweater</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Patrick?”</p><p>The voice cuts through Patrick’s sleep, bringing him groggily awake. He’d only meant to lie down for a minute, but the shadows on the wall of his apartment tell him that some time has passed. “Yeah.” His voice is hoarse and creaky. He clears his throat and tries again. “Over here.”</p><p>The door latches closed and minutes later David appears at the foot of the bed. “Why is it so cold in here?”</p><p>“I think I left the window open.” He sits up, his back cracking as he stretches, trying to shake away the cobwebs. David’s right, it’s freezing in here. He tucks his fingers into the sleeves of his sweater.</p><p>“Are you wearing my sweater?” He looks down at the black mohair sweater before eying David warily. His husband raises an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“I was cold.” He sits on the edge of the bed, wishing David would come closer but he remains just out of reach.</p><p>“Are your sweaters broken?” The words are teasing, but David’s tone is even and Patrick can’t tell if he’s okay with him wearing his sweater without permission.</p><p>“It’s snuggly, okay?” He lets his voice trail away. “And I missed you.” </p><p>A soft look crosses David’s face, but he stays where he is. “I just saw you three hours ago.”</p><p>“I know.” The silence builds as he tries to think of what to say. “I’m sorry. About before. I shouldn’t have—”</p><p>“It was my fault.” David’s hands finally find his shoulders. </p><p>“No, I shouldn’t have moved the body milk.” </p><p>“I’m the one who overreacted.”</p><p>“But I shouldn’t have said what I said.”</p><p>“Are you serious right now?” David’s hands go still on his shoulders. “Are you turning this into an apology competition?”</p><p>“Uh—” He’s not. Is he? Maybe he is, just a little.</p><p>David’s hands shove his shoulders pushing him back on the bed. “Shut up. It was my fault and I’m not going to let you say otherwise.” Before he can protest, David kisses him hard enough to chase away any lingering apologies. </p><p>David pulls back, just a little and Patrick smirks up at him, unable to resist. “I’m really sorry, David.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alexis has some thoughts about David and Patrick the morning after Moira Rosé.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The unfamiliar noise seeps into Alexis’s consciousness, bringing her awake. Normally David snuffles in his sleep, like an annoying hibernating bear, a sound that Alexis has learned to tune out after years of sleeping in the same room. This noise is different; a high-pitched whistle like a tiny teapot. Alexis cracks her eyes open. David had better not be getting sick or else she’ll make sure he sleeps at Patrick’s until he’s better. Patrick lives to take care of her brother so that’s a win-win for everyone.</p><p>Patrick. Of course. In the dim light, she can’t see her brother-in-law over the lump of David’s body, but she can hear him, the quiet whistle as he exhales in his sleep.</p><p>It’s just as well she can’t see him. He’s probably doing something gross, like cuddling into David’s back and nuzzling his neck. Ew. She definitely doesn’t need to be thinking about that. Forcing her thoughts away before she can think of even worse things Patrick and her brother might be doing, she runs through her favorite things; the way Ted looks when a puppy does something cute and rose-gold sandals and the girl-boss stickers she found on Etsy last week.</p><p>That’s better. </p><p>Still, she’s happy for David. She can’t say Patrick has made him more relaxed. Patrick loves her brother, but he’s not a miracle worker. But David is happy in a way she’s never seen before. It’s sweet. And he deserves it. Not that she’d ever tell him. No point in either of them getting even more disgusting about how cute they are for each other.</p><p>Patrick’s whistling noise gets even louder, trailing off into a soft snort at the end. Fumbling with her phone, Alexis checks the time. It’s barely five o’clock. The perfect time for revenge for the way they’d teased her last night. Her voice breaks through the silence of the early morning.</p><p>“Oh my god, David! Tell your Patrick to be quiet.”</p><p>“Whaaaa?!” The other bed creaks alarmingly as David flails awake. There’s a loud thump as someone falls onto the floor. With a satisfied smile, Alexis rolls over, burrowing into her pillow to go back to sleep.</p>
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